The fate of an important
house may turn on many things, like greed, pride, or deception, if that house
is a state or a nation. Or, if you're
talking about an actual house and the family inside, their fates may turn on lust
or jealousy or—again—greed. And, in the current Lookingglass
production, the Karamazov house spins quite literally, around and around on
stage: first revealing a drunken father
(Craig Spindle) covered with wanton women, and his own small sons on the edges
of the room, looking outward, seemingly yearning for escape.

The house (a corner of it,
really) keeps right on spinning, though, revealing the same father and women (doing
the same things) a few
seconds later, surrounded by adult versions of the same little boys years
later, also in the same poses. Not
surprisingly, all of their fates are likewise thrown into a tailspinand in
those opening moments, and others like them, we are entranced by a strong poetic
vision brought to the stage.

The show also seems much shorter
than its three-and-a-half hour runing time, thanks mainly to playwright and
director Heidi Stillman, who managed the transformation from Dostoevsky's 1881
novel. Next in the honor roll comes Joe Sikora as Dmitri, retaining his
humanity in spite of wildly self-destructive passions and his endless
clashes with his father (Mr. Spindle). Philip R. Smith is Ivan: dour and funny in
the early going, but slowly
driven horrifyingly, staggeringly mad. Great
as he is, though, Mr. Smith often seemed to be "counting the house" the night that
I attendedthe only thing that undercut
an otherwise unforgettable performance. And
Doug Hara is the priestly brother Alyosha, gracefully carrying the banner of socialism,
some 26 years before the end of Imperial Russia, by declaring that we are all
"guilty for one another."

Lawrence Grimm catches our
eye from the very first as a character of grand Dickensian proportions, in a
seemingly minor role. Another
notable "spin" of the Karamazov house reveals his own miserable plight (as
Smerdyakov, the servant), being the butt of cruel stories told by the elder
Karamazov. And Steve Key is deeply tragic as a former
army captain, living a life of endless anguish. Throughout, the
texture is pure Russian, allowing plenty of room for both naturalism and colorful
caricature.

Humor comes not just from
Mr. Smith as the laconic Ivan, but also from Eva Barr (Mrs. Kolklakov), as a sort of henna-haired
Aunt Pittypat, delivering a continual comic lament. Her fears partly concern the
outrageous
wanderings of Dmitri and the frustrations of his fiancé Katerina, played by
Louise Lamson. She's pitted against Grushenka, an
unapologetic opportunist who goes from man to man, played by Chaon Cross as lovely
as a young Valerie Perrine. And though she contains her self amazingly for the
first two acts, Ms.
Lamson's final testimony (after all Dmitri's infidelities) is explosive. Every
moment from the shocking conclusion of
act two, to the end of the third act, is gripping.

Playwright/Director
Stillman finds a hundred ways of telling all their stories, from the always
struggling Dmitri, with his needlessly challenging exits (climbing up a tall
ladder), to a scene by a child's grave, where Captain Snegiryov
reaches unbearable depths of grief. Maury
Cooper lends a spiritual mystique to the role of Father Zossima, who first
hears the complaints by the three brothers against their father, and easily
persuades us of his god-like power of insight into each man's soul. It probably all
sounds too dark in this short-hand description, but it's far more than that.

Through December 21st,
2008 at the historic Chicago Water Tower Water Works, 821 North Michigan Ave.,
at Pearson. Note that evening shows
begin at 7:30 p.m. For more information,
call (312) 337-0665, or visit them online at www.lookingglasstheatre.org.